It’s my intention to start documenting my proud moments. In a few years hopefully I’ll have pages and pages of success stories. Then, when I’m having a day where I feel like I can’t do anything right, my blog will have the proof I need that this feeling is wrong. Pretty clever idea right?

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So yesterday could have been my usual nightmare situation.

My daughter was going out for the day with her grandmother and then would spend the following 2 days with her dad.

The time was 8am. I was tired AF and this child needed to be showered, hair washed, hair and teeth done, clothes picked out, ironed, packed and breakfast eaten by 9:30am.

When you add in the fact that:

A) Parenting and keeping my cool comes as naturally to me as a cat to water.

B) My child hates, and I mean HATES, co operating with most things. She’s just turned 12 and trying to be more independent by making all her own decisions. Unfortunately that automatically means she doesn’t like me making any decisions. A stage I remember all too well when I was growing up.

C) My wife sleeps terribly most nights and we live in a tiny apartment where every little sound wakes her up.

D) I’m due on my period which means at some point there will be fireworks.

So I get up and my first decision to get her in the shower, so her hair can start drying before she goes out into the Baltic English winter, is met with complete disapproval. She’s hungry. Battle number 1 has commenced. 5 minutes of calmly but firmly not budging and her pushing the boundaries, she makes it into the shower.

Then it’s time to pick outfits – Battle number 2. I massively struggle with perfectionism and analysis paralysis. It took a while and I got sidetracked a few times by the mess in my daughter’s drawers. Normally that would grind my gears so much I’d be busy demanding explanations, instead of letting her get ready. I’d make us even more late. But I manage to bring my focus back and eventually I have a couple of outfits and spares.

Even though there is still a lot to do I don’t let it stress me out like I normally would. Between the shower and breakfast my daughter has decided to be a bit more co operative. Then she learns that her outfit contains a pair of brand new trousers she says don’t look cool enough. Battle number 3.

To the average parent these may all look like small miniscule problems that can be easily handled. For me, each one has the potential to go south. All for various different reasons. The most intrinsic one is the fear of feeling shame. My wife is not around to help and she shouldn’t have to be. What that means, though, is that I have full responsibily and if I don’t execute everything perfectly my feelings of shame will come bubbling up from under the surface. When I feel shame, I can act in any number of ways if uncontrolled.

Today I am in control and I will not let shame turn me into someone I don’t want to be.

Knowing how important it was for us to be on time, I have set a target of being ready by 9:15. By 9:30 we are walking out the door on our way to my mother-in-law. This is a first. We are on time. We are calm. Yes I ended up discovering I’d forgotten a couple of important things and I reacted with a raised voice for two seconds. But that’s where compassion comes in. Something I’ve never known before. It’s hard getting a child ready when nothing has been prepared the night before. It’s hard doing it on your own. It’s even harder doing it when nothing about the tasks come naturally to you. Nothing about dealing with defiance comes naturally to me. It actually triggers my shame really hard. However, I can safely say I handled everything so so well. I am so so proud of myself.

Talk soon,